


it's gonna be like that one troll/alien romcom only without the really long title

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society (Homestuck), Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Diplomacy, F/F, Interplanetary Travel, M/M, Multi, Quadrant Vacillation, intergalactic diplomacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22042447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: TFW you have an "OH NO THEY'RE HOT" moment about your diplomatic opposites, then have to Deal With It like the grownass Empress and Admiral you're claiming you are. Instead of wallowing in it.Okay maybe alittlewallowing could fit into your schedule, but you're not actually sure they'll allow it...
Relationships: Eridan Ampora/Feferi Peixes, Eridan Ampora/Jane Crocker/Feferi Peixes/Dirk Strider, Jane Crocker/Dirk Strider
Kudos: 20
Collections: Polyswap Winter Promptfest - Dawn Edition





	it's gonna be like that one troll/alien romcom only without the really long title

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [GloamingMage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloamingMage/pseuds/GloamingMage) in the [Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dawn_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dawn_2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> A new Empress has taken the throne, and she’s decided to pursue peace talks with the Human Federation. She and her right hand come to Earth to meet with two human ambassadors, who give them the grand tour of earth’s beauty. Bonus points for culture clashes and flirting across the quadrants.

You've picked, by all knowledge easily available to you, the absolute worst time to come down for these peace talks imaginable.

It's neither the chill in the air nor the snow on the ground that has you regretting this, but the infernal racket and ruckus that what one of your sources called _the holiday shopping season_ seems to bring. Even with the threat of a war hanging over their heads, humans will not be swayed from their various and unusual customs. Especially not shopping.

You would fret about this more, only, well.

It's fairly evident that Earth selected its ambassadors in a deliberate attempt to distract you and your right hand troll, Eridan Ampora, from the task at hand. They would never have found the closest human equivalent to a tyrianblood and violet otherwise, much less—based on what you know of the disaster that is Earth history, politics, and culture—put such competent and capable people in charge. It's blatantly pandering, it's a complete affront to the purpose of these peace talks, and worst of all, it's _working_.

Jane Crocker is beautiful, intelligent, and absolutely ruthless. She's the most gorgeous alien female you've ever seen, and you can't decide if you love her or hate her—you're completely certain that you've got _some_ kind of concupiscent feelings going, because _damn_ , but that's all you're sure of—and she meets you at every turn with calm elegance and certainty. It's driving you a little bit nuts, and Eridan's only sympathetic because he's in the same boat.

Dirk Strider is beautiful, intelligent, and absolutely ruthless. He's the most gorgeous alien male you've ever seen and _you can't fucking go through this spiel again._ Basically: He'd had the _audacity_ to agree to a demonstration spar between him and Eridan (Crocker had suggested it, the bitch), and the two of them had been _so_ evenly matched that you'd nearly flipped quads with an entire godsdamn room full of spectators.

Like you said! It's dirty pool! Or whatever weird expression these human aliens used these days.

"This sucks," you tell Eridan, sitting cross-legged on the incredibly plush bed that the Earth's diplomatic team had provided you with. You shove another of the pork buns (or whatever they were called, from the outing that Crocker and Strider had taken you on that day) into your mouth and chew, well aware that your fins are set into a wriggler's pout.

Eridan doesn't call you on it for once, staring out the window with a forlorn look you feel deep in your soul. "Yeah. It really fuckin does."

You're about to get him started on his own rant about the glories and terrors of allying yourselves with this new race of creatures—you've already _decided_ that you're going to let things come to a peace, but that doesn't mean you can't get something you want out of it, like perhaps forcing them to quit polluting literally everything they touch or maybe have a go at actually using the vaccinations they have against diseases—when there's a knock at your door that lasts half a second and ends with heavy wood swinging wide open.

"Come on," Jane Crocker says, standing in your doorway and looking like she's ready to call you to the Challenge all over again. You can see Dirk over her shoulder, the ever-present shadow, and feel Eridan right beside you, the way he's practically drooling over the short, tight skirt she's wearing. "We want to show you something."

Saying no doesn't even cross your mind.

* * *

"Oh," you said, then Eridan had followed it up with " _wow_."

They'd brought you to a seadweller's paradise, land meeting water in glorious color and life and light, the sun setting (and hadn't it been strange, to be on a planet where the sun burned gently enough that even human children could bask in its rays) and turning the world into a giant stained glass. They'd brought you there and _joined_ you in the water, diving in without a trace of hesitation, easily letting themselves get caught up in the typical fishertroll games you played.

When you finally resurfaced, you'd spotted—briefly, only for the flicker of a moment—softer expressions on their faces, as they'd watched you and Eridan play. Your eyes narrow immediately, even if your fins flutter and flush, and by the way their attention snaps to even that slightest movement, you _know_ they're mentally mapping out every moment of this interaction.

Well, fine. You and Eridan can work with that. Hells, you can _work_ like that, too.

Starting tomorrow, it's a no holds barred flirtation campaign, and they are going _down_.


End file.
